


It Never Made Sense (to me) Before

by soliloquize



Series: If Only For a Moment [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: ALTERNATIVELY, Established Relationship, F/M, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, as it were, au where nursey and dex actually try to communicate like functional adults even once, half banter half communication, half character study with a side of plot and half straight porn, or not straight porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 15:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16895400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soliloquize/pseuds/soliloquize
Summary: It shouldn’t-- it just shouldn’t have been that big a deal.  Chris was bi and spent a lot of time around attractive, talented men whose company he enjoyed.  It made perfect sense that he’d occasionally feel some… appreciation.This just felt like more than that.





	1. It Never Made Sense (to me) Before

**Author's Note:**

> technically a sequel to All This and Heaven Too, but you don't have to read that first  
> the first chapter is gen and the second is pwp  
> story and series title also from "All This and Heaven Too" by Florence and the Machine

Cait should have known better than to trust Nursey or Dex to show up on time.   

“I wish we would have known they were going to be late, we could have been making out,” she complained, looking around her suite that was tastefully adorned with fairy lights and cheap-but-not- _too_ -cheap booze and, currently, totally empty of the friends who had said they’d meet them thirty minutes ago to pregame.

“I knew you were only with me for my body,” Chris said tragically.

“Yep.  Your body and that seven figure NHL contract in your future.”

“But no pressure, right?”

“Never!” Cait said innocently, standing at the knock on her door.  “‘Bout time you assholes showed up.”

Rather than make any attempt to look contrite, Nursey and Dex stood in the threshold, more smug than anything.  Cait wished she could be properly annoyed instead of just endeared by their preening.

“Oh, wow, Nursey!  You look great-- I mean you always look great, but, um.  Wow. And Dex, you look good too!”

Cait grinned at her boyfriend’s stammering compliments, but she couldn’t disagree with him.  Nursey could have been a model in a t-shirt and boxers, but there was something about the way he held himself in the black halter dress, the slightly bashful smile framed by dark red lipstick that made Cait feel like she’d only ever seen him in clothes from someone else’s closet.  She’d known he was planning this, but she hadn’t realized what a difference it would make for him--to be not just chill, but actually _comfortable_.

“He’s not wrong,” she smiled at Nursey, hoping it conveyed more depth of emotion than her flippant response (not everyone could be a goddamn poet, okay?).  “Now that you’re actually here, can I interest you in a drink?”

“What’ve you got?” Dex asked.  She gave him a brief side hug as he walked in past her; it wasn’t really possible to be on SMH and be touch-starved, but she knew what it was like to grow up in a huge family and not even notice all the little everyday hugs and head pats and cheek kisses until they weren’t there anymore, all the simple gestures that told you you were home, you were loved.  Dex had confessed to her once about missing those reminders, and Cait could never forget his sad hound-dog eyes and what it must have taken for him to actually admit to his insecurities.

“From the luscious vineyards of, um, Murder Stop-N-Shop, we have this 2017 vintage non-determinate white.  And, aged in oak barrels for probably thirty seconds, we have here a single-distilled whiskey with cinnamon notes--”

“And this is Natty Light,” Chris interjected dryly.  They all cracked up, still giggling as Nursey grabbed the Fireball and Chris tossed Dex a beer.  Cait settled easily on Chris’s lap, leaving Nursey and Dex to share the futon. They looked comfortable together, too, Dex leaning into Nursey with a hand on his leg.  

The conversation and the chirps continued to flow, and Cait almost wondered if it was even worth going to the dance.  Almost. She didn’t want to miss the chance to show off her boys-- her boy, rather. Obviously Nursey and Dex weren’t hers.  And it wasn’t like she _owned_ Chris in some creepy possessive way.  She just-- loved them all a lot.

“Do we want to head over soon?” Chris said, half reading her mind as always.

“Yeah, let me get my shoes,” Cait sighed.  She loved how she looked wearing heels, but _god at what cost_.

“You’re a braver woman than I, Farmer,” Nursey said.  Cait glanced up at the note of patented fake chill in his voice, but he was looking away from her, kicking his legs so that the patent leather of his boots caught the light.  

“You’re plenty brave, Nursey,” Chris cut in.

“Everyone who wears heels takes them off and dances barefoot after an hour anyway,” Cait said lightly, hoping nonchalant  was the right tack. She finished buckling her shoes and looked up to see Dex squeeze Nursey’s hand. “Do you guys want a picture before we leave?”

Dex nodded and handed his phone over to her almost before she finished.  Nursey gave him a disarmingly grateful look-- she wondered if he was also remembering the paranoid, camera shy frog Dex had been barely two years ago.  She managed to snap a picture of it, congratulating herself, and then took fifty more for good measure.

“Okay, _mom_ , can we go now?” Nursey chirped her.

“Take one of me and Chris and then we can.”

  


The rest of SMH beat them there, but were still swarmed close enough to the door to descend upon them as soon as they walked in.

“Let’s dance?” Chris murmured in her ear.  She nodded and they slipped away from the raucous affirmations the team was throwing at Nursey.  

There were a couple fast numbers for them to embarrass themselves dancing to-- Cait’s abuela and her tia had both danced merengue professionally, but Cait had never figured out her lanky limbs enough to be graceful anywhere except a volleyball court.  Soon enough the DJ settled into slow numbers and the kind of rolling beats that were really just excuses to grind.

“Chris, darling. My eyes are over here.  So are my boobs, incidentally.”

Chris flushed and returned his gaze from where he’d been looking over Cait’s shoulder.  She smiled to let him know she was teasing and felt his hands tighten on her hips to pull her to him, though they were already dancing pretty closely, even by Winter Screw standards.

“Sorry, I just… I’m happy for them.”

Cait glanced back and saw Nursey and Dex, barely even dancing at this point, just holding each other and swaying.  Nursey’s skirt swirled gently at the movement from his hips, and Dex had his face buried in Nursey’s shoulder. It was the kind of image that would have made high school Cait (taller than all the boys in her grade and consequently incredibly single because boys are dumb) ridiculously jealous.  Junior in college Cait smiled at the surge of emotion and kissed her long-term boyfriend on his cheek that was perfectly level with hers.

“Okay, but do we prefer overhearing them hooking up to them bickering?  The Haus walls haven’t gotten any thicker since they got together.”

Chris gave a long-suffering sigh.  “You say that like they don’t bicker just as much as they did last year.  I think they think it’s like, foreplay.”

“Gross,” Cait giggled.  Chris, as he always did, looked delighted to have made her laugh and _god_ she loved him.  “But, um, speaking of foreplay…”

She attempted to pout seductively, and it pretty much worked, judging by the way Chris’s eyes sharpened on her.   _Goalie face_ , she thought, and shivered.  Part of her mind--probably the part that had gone shot for shot with Nursey when they pregamed-- wished she and Chris played the same sport so she could face off against him sometime.  Have all that confidence and intensity directed at her and give it right back-- spike a volleyball in his face, slap a puck into the net, watch him try to get her back. Maybe Nursey or Dex would be there, trying to defend Chris, but all his attention would be on her, and she’d slam Dex into the boards, speed around Nursey--they’d be surprised at her strength-- and Chris’s eyes would never leave her, the whole time.

“Whatcha thinking about, Caity?” Chris whispered, breaking her out of the daydream.

“Goalie face,” she answered dumbly.  That would...be something to think about later.

Chris’s eyes crinkled.  “I’m good at that.”

“I know you are.”

“If we leave now, we’ll probably have the Haus to ourselves.”

“There is no world where I will have sex with you on that couch.”

“No-- I just nap on it before _games_ \-- I meant we wouldn’t--”

“I know what you meant,” Cait giggled, leaning into his chest before pulling away and walking off the dance floor.  She glanced back over her shoulder, more for effect than anything. “Aren’t you coming? I’m pretty sure you just promised to make me scream when I come.”

“ _Cait_.” He was blushing, but there was a determination in his gaze that made her shiver.

She walked away from him slowly, with the slight swagger heels always gave her.  Chris caught up quickly. Near the drinks table they passed Dex, holding up a wall while Nursey got more adventurous on the dancefloor.

“Give us an hour before you head back to your room,” Cait muttered to Dex.  “Chris has a dare to win.”

Dex rolled his eyes and did an altogether decent impression of looking unimpressed, but the blush gave him away.  Cait winked exaggeratedly and walked out of the dance, hand in hand with her boyfriend.

* * *

  


They had a short winter break because they were in-season varsity athletes, so Chris was back on campus right after American New Year’s, barely two weeks after he’d left.  Classes didn’t even start for another ten days, and it always left him a little resentful about not getting to spend as much time with his family. He’d cried getting on the plane after winter break freshman year, knowing he’d miss his dad’s homemade mooncakes and his mom’s tradition of finding the most ridiculous made-for-white-people-by-white-people attempt at mooncakes the big supermarkets were selling for “Chinese” New Year.  That’s how he learned his mom’s quest for shitty mooncakes started during her own time feeling adrift at Samwell. It had been a nice moment, but the injustice still rankled, especially when he knew Kay was going to Snapchat him _constantly_ so he’d know exactly what he was missing.

Still, it was snowing as he walked into the house, and Chris paused for a minute to catch flakes on his tongue and think about how life could be worse.  Maybe a little more than a minute-- long enough for Dex to open the door and ask him if he was trying to catch his death of cold.

“You’re our best goalie, C, and we have some hard games coming up.”

“Have more faith in our stellar defense abilities, babe,” Nursey called from the kitchen.  It smelled like butter and vanilla, as per usual, but Chris knew for a fact Bitty’s flight had been delayed.  Sure enough, as soon as Chris was inside the door, Dex stalked back past him into the kitchen and swatted Nursey’s finger out of a bowl while Chris leaned against the doorjamb and watched.

“So… he accidentally switched bodies with a strict Irish grandmother again?” Chris said.

“There’s just something about that Maine air that’ll do that to a guy.”

“I’m so glad I’m making all these cookies just for myself and no one else,” Dex said loudly without looking at either of them.  It took half a second for Nursey to snort with no chill whatsoever and less than that for Chris and Dex to break out laughing.

“It’s s’wawesome to see you guys,” Chris said, going in for the side hug.  He hadn’t left all the people he loved in Cali, not by a long shot. “Had good breaks?”

“I doubt this one has anything to add that wasn’t encapsulated by his fucking incessant Instagram live updates.  Not normal insta. Instagram _live_.”

“Dex, I didn’t know you even had an insta!” Chris chirped, widening his eyes innocently for maximum effect.  

“You’re behind the times, dude.  Everyone’s on instagram live.”

“I don’t believe you--It’s just a snapchat story! It’s the same fucking feature!” Dex opened the oven to check on cookies and closed it for emphasis-- there was a glint in his eye that said that had been the whole purpose.

“Gotta get dem likes.”

“You’re--ridiculous.  My break,” Dex said, turning his attention to Chris, “was exactly what you’d expect.  Siblings, church, cousins, food, more cousins, more church, and some very detailed conversations about exactly how great a specimen Tom Brady is that left me wondering how come _I_ get all the backhanded comments about being gay just ‘cause I bake.”

“Babe.  Babe. You are gay.”

“I’m aware of that and so are they, actually, but it was Rob who wouldn’t fucking shut up about Brady’s biceps so--”

“So maybe he’s figuring some shit out!”

“Or maybe he’s a hypocritical jerk with some internalized homophobia,” Dex muttered.  Chris took the opportunity to swipe up some leftover cookie dough out of the mixing bowl, licking it off his finger luxuriously.  He didn’t quite get away with it, but Dex just rolled his eyes fondly when he saw him.

“How was your break, Nursey?”

“Oh, you know.  Nadia was only home for like six seconds because she promised Reagan they’d do Christmas with her family which _fine_ , that totally makes sense because it’s not like our family does Christmas, but Christmas is when I’m home and it’s like, not very often we’re even in the same timezone.”

“Yeah, that’s hard,” Chris sympathized.  He’d driven up to do Christmas Eve with Cait and her family twice now, since Christmas wasn’t a big thing in the Chow household of mostly-lapsed Buddhists, but he saw his family more often than Nursey saw Nadia for sure.

“But like.  Caught the last couple nights of Haunnakah with Dad and Irene and had some good games of Trivial Pursuit with Mom and Amma in between all their hospital benefit parties.”

Chris nodded along, happy for Nursey that he’d struck a good balance of time with his parents, at least (which Chris knew hadn’t always been the case), but he was caught up suddenly by the way Dex reached out for Nursey without thinking, strong hand placed on a shoulder for easy comfort.  Nursey leaned into it like breathing, and something in Chris’s brain suddenly went-- _I want to be a part of that_ \-- which, he was with Cait, so what the fuck brain?

“Hey, C, you good, man?”

Shit, now he’d spaced out of the conversation because his ADHD brain was super good like that when handling unexpected stimuli such as potential feelings for someone (someones?) who weren’t his girlfriend.

“Yeah!  I’m fine!”  That sounded natural.  Probably.

“Great, so MarioKart?”

“Sure, yeah!”

“I call Peach,” Nursey said immediately.

“Peach, Nurse? Really?”

“She’s a badass motherfucker and a speed demon on that bike so I don’t wanna hear your masc bullshit, Poindexter.”

“It’s not about her being a _girl_ , it’s that her bike has shit handling and you fall off the sides enough--”

 _This_ was what he’d felt some kind of--something-- about not thirty seconds ago, Chris reflected wryly.  Two guys who argued like kindergarteners with a swearing problem.

Still, it left him uncomfortably aware of their legs on either side of him as they squished on the couch with Chris in the middle (a longstanding rule to avoid probably-founded accusations of Dex cheating by purposefully tickling Nursey).  He fell off the road twice on Rainbow Road, even though he’d spent way too many hours learning to dominate at it, and missed a chance to use a blue shell on Nursey. Chris gave it half an hour before throwing in the towel, pleading jetlag even though he’d flown the wrong direction to be jetlagged at night.

He climbed the stairs to his room and threw his duffle on the bed without unpacking it.  He wanted-- what he really wanted was to call Cait, because even if he didn’t know what he wanted, talking to her made things better, always.  He pulled out his phone and shot off a text.

_Call when u get a chance?_

Typing dots appeared immediately.

_At my niece’s bday dinner.  Tmrw morning ok?_

He sighed.   _Ya_.

It shouldn’t-- it just shouldn’t have been that big a deal.  Chris was bi and spent a lot of time around attractive, talented men whose company he enjoyed.  It made perfect sense that he’d occasionally feel some… appreciation.

This just felt like more than that.  More than a flash of lust, it was like some kind of slow burn that hadn’t heated up enough for him to notice at first, but now he was on fucking fire and probably needed to do something about it.

He buried his face in his hands.  This was so dumb. He didn’t even know which one of them he’d been, what, jealous of?  

His brain, unhelpfully, played the Winter Screw memory of Nursey walking into Cait’s room in that dress and the lipstick, catching Chris by surprise and suddenly making it hard to swallow.  But Dex had been there too, confident and happy with Nursey on his arm in a way that made his game-day suit look red carpet ready.

And there were other times.  Studying with Dex at the end of last spring, noticing how the sun caught in his playoff flow he hadn’t yet chopped.  The little furrow of frustration at whatever piece of code they’d been struggling through. Chris had wanted to make Dex smile, smooth out the anger and let him just be soft, but friends don’t want friends to be stressed, those feelings were normal…Appreciating the gruff way Dex checked up on all the team, especially him and Nursey and Bitty and the tadpoles, the way he was always the first one up and never forgot to make enough coffee for everyone, the way only the people closest to him got to see under the rough exterior… those were just… normal friend things to feel.

Chris slowly and methodically banged his head against the wall.  It did not make his thoughts stop going in circles, nor did it get rid of the lurking feeling that he was betraying Cait, betraying his friendship with Dex and Nursey.  

He wished he could go back three hours to the warmth of the kitchen, laughing with Nursey at Dex, laughing at Nursey for that ridiculous snort-laugh of his--it was twice as good for being a sure sign that Nursey had abandoned all pretense of being _chill_ , that he really was letting himself enjoy the moment the way he deserved to because if there was a more passionate, compassionate person than Nursey, Chris hadn’t met them.  And if they were any more scared to show that side of themselves, he never wanted to.

Fuck, he was--fucked.

 

His phone ringing woke him up because he actually was jetlagged and it was only 8 a.m. west coast time.  Chris sat up blearily, confused for a minute about where he was and why he was in his jeans still before the events and emotional windstorm of the previous night came back to him.  He groaned into Sharkie’s plush before realizing his phone was still ringing.

He picked it up.  It was Cait.

“Morning, babe,” she said, voice was ever so slightly out of breath.  In the back of his mind, Chris guessed she’d been dragged on a morning run with her brother before he went to work, which would also explain why she was up so early.

Chris didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to focus on that part of his brain.  “I don’t wanna break up,” he blurted.

“I don’t either,” Cait said immediately.  “Was that… on the table?”

“No!  No, of course not.  Never.”

“Never?”

He could hear the smile in her voice, thought with sudden clarity of her face when she unwrapped the necklace he’d gotten her for Christmas, her protectiveness of the volleyball frogs, her competitiveness at charades.   _Of course_ he never wanted to break up with her.

“Never.”

“Glad we’re on the same page about that.  Do you wanna tell me what prompted this?”

Chris flopped back on his bed and hugged Sharkie.  “I just, like, hanging out with Nursey and Dex-- we had a Frog night ‘cause no one else is back yet-- and it was-- they were--” he huffed.  “I saw them together and realized I was kinda jealous. Or like. Yeah.”

Cait was quiet.  In the background, he heard dishes clacking together.

“Was it more of a… like ‘oh shit my friends are hot’ thing?  ‘Cause babe, I gotta tell you that’s old news. I mean I’ve-- anyway.”

“I think it was more than that.  Could be more than that?”

“So like you have romantic feelings for…”

“Dex.  I mean, I think.  And--”

“Nursey too?”

“How are you supposed to get to know Nursey, like actually know him under all the chill bullshit, and _not_ fall in love with him at least a little?” Chris whined.  Cait laughed, a little helplessly.

“I-- could probably use an answer to that question myself.”

“You--what?”  That was… not the direction he’d expected this conversation to go.

“I mean, I haven’t like _thought about it_ thought about it, but I’ve… noticed Nursey and like, Nursey with Dex in a way I might have thought about if you and I weren’t together?”

“Great,” Chris responded a beat late, pretending that his cognitive function hadn’t been briefly overwhelmed by an image of Cait kissing Nursey while he and Dex watched, while he and Dex _kissed_.  “Okay so. Okay. Like.”

“Where do we go from here?”

“Yeah, like.  You and I still seem...pretty much kinda on the same page.”

“Definitely happy dating each other, possibly maybe feeling date-y things for our friends who are dating each other and presumably happy,” Cait summarized.

“Right.”

“I mean-- and we don’t have to know now, but-- have you thought at all about maybe wanting to date them, like, in addition?”

It’s way too easy for Chris to imagine considering he’d never explicitly thought about Nursey or Dex that way outside of the past twelve hours.  Daydreams continued to play out in his head-- kissing after a hard-fought win, complimenting them and watching Dex blush and Nursey hike his shoulders up before totally melting, going home to Cait and cuddling in a big pile while watching _Great British Baking Show_.

“I think I like the idea,” he admitted slowly.  “But I also don’t know if it would actually work.”  Even wanting to date multiple people made him feel greedy, selfish.  All the times people had scoffed and said _you need to just pick a side_ when he’s told them he’s bi crawled into his mind and took sudden root.  His stomach twisted. “I mean I’m pretty sure Dex considers himself gay, so I don’t know if he would want to date you at all.”

“Christopher Chow,” and he could _hear_ her smirking evilly, oh god.  “Are you saying I’m undateable?”

“ _No_ , I’m _trying_ to be respectful of your and Dex’s--identities, gosh.” She snickered at him through the phone, and he heard his name in a string of Spanish from the background.

“Ay,” Cait shouted back.  “By the way, Ma says hi.”

Chris had to laugh at that.  “I think that change of topic gave me whiplash, but tell her I say hi too!”

He glanced at the clock, confirming that he’d been awake for just under half and hour and already had a heart-to-heart with his girlfriend, started a potential polyamory negotiation, and now suddenly had to think about acting out social niceties with his girlfriend’s mother, and it’s just a lot.

“I know, sorry, I’m in my room now and Danielle is at school so more no interruptions hopefully.”

Chris let himself grin at that, and marvel at the craziness of living in the same house as one and a half sets of grandparents, an auntie, both parents, and four siblings, but his thoughts quickly circled back to their earlier topic.

“I just… it wouldn’t seem fair if I got to date, like, two or three awesome people and you and Dex had to just share.”

“Yeah, I mean it’s something I’d want to talk about, but honestly it’s not like Dex and I don’t get along.  We can all hang out and be important people in each others’ lives without technically dating, you know?”

“Okay, yeah.”

“Also worrying about this stuff is probably like… putting the cart way before the horse.  Putting the cart before a bunch of chickens that haven’t hatched. Putting a bunch of unassembled lumber before a bunch of laying hens.”

“Jeez, okay, now I see why you wanna date Nursey.  You can sit around and mangle the English language together.”

Cait belly laughed, and Chris had to grin at the sound.  He knew her well enough to picture how she threw back her head when she laughed like that, but he wished she were here so he could see it in person.  So he could have this conversation holding her hand, leaning against her shoulder, smelling her hair.

“Like, it’s not a bad idea to think about potential issues, but we shouldn’t necessarily talk ourselves out of even considering the idea.”

“You’re right,” Chris said.  “It’s just-- scary to think, what if we try and it makes everything awkward and I lose my two best friends?  But what if we don’t try and we miss out on something that would’ve made us really happy?”

“I am right there with ya, babe.”

Chris’s stomach growled as the lump of anxiety that had been sitting in his belly started to dissolve.  “I should probably go eat breakfast.”

“You do that,” Cait said fondly.

“I love you, Caity.  So much.”

“Love you too.”

Chris hung up and changed into clean clothes and brushed his teeth before heading downstairs, not bothering with his hair because it was going to stick up like that no matter what he did.  As he waited for the egg pan to heat up, he noticed a missed text from Cait.

 _Doesn’t make sense for her to suddenly be angry at you for having feelings for other people_ , Chris chided his brain for immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario.  He opened the message to find the “Both. Both is good” gif from _Road to El Dorado_ , captioned “our convo just now”.

Chris burst out laughing in the empty kitchen.

* * *

  


It was Shitty’s turn to send a thinkpiece article for the half-book club/half-debate club he and Will had going.  It had started out the beginning of Will’s sophomore year as (he’s pretty sure) Shitty’s way of passive-aggressively educating him, which, while somewhat patronizing and annoying, was also fair, given the person Will had been at that point.

Will liked to think he’s gotten better-- a _lot_ better-- since he was a freshman.  But as he read the article Shitty sent-- “Deconstructing Binarism in Western Sex and Romance”-- off his phone, he felt more out of his depth than he had in a while.  Some of it, he got; he’d done the gender 101 readings when Nursey came out to him, he’d heard Farmer and Lardo both complain about no one thinking they could be bi just because they both happen to be in relationships with men, and SMH in general (and Ransom and Holster in particular) were living monuments to the potential for platonic relationships to be just as strong and fulfilling as romantic ones.  

This article took those hard-won truths from Will and ran with them.  Sprinted with them.

 

_So many people’s lived experiences prove, millions of times over, that a binary gender or sexuality paradigm is reductive and artificial.  But once we’ve recognized these truths, we are obligated to step back and ask ourselves in what other aspects of our lives are we constricting ourselves with unrealistic, arbitrary binaries?  Marriage, for example. We’ve accepted that it’s not only a union between a man and woman-- but we’ve redefined it simply to be a union between one person and another person. But if we accept that marriage can be marriage without having “one of each,” and we accept that marriage is an expression of romantic love and commitment, and we accept romantic and platonic love can be equally important and compelling, and we accept that platonic love and commitment (friendships or familial relationships) can and does exist between more than two people at a time, there is no reason for “couple” to be the default unit for any romantic relationship.  No reason, that is, other than the overwhelming attachment to binary systems of thinking, even by those who profess to be queer--an identity that should inherently reject the limitations of the binary. Yet even within the queer community, we cling to that structure that upheld oppression against queer sexual and romantic relationships for hundreds of years, and call it liberation because the chains now come in rainbow colors._

 

It was… jarring.  A lot of the propositions in the article made Will uncomfortable, they pushed at the boundaries of what he’d known-- what he thought he’d known-- all his life. He couldn’t find fault with the logic, either, except to insist _that’s just the way it is_ , which left him no good answer to the article’s inevitable challenge of _why_.

And okay, most of the point of his and Shitty’s arrangement was to challenge each other and the preconceived notions of society in general, but their weekly readings didn’t usually leave Will sitting on his bedroom floor, staring at his phone screen long after it had gone dark from inaction.

He hesitated a moment longer, than unlocked his phone and forwarded the article link to Nursey without comment.  Nursey had firmly declined the invitation to be part of his and Shitty’s discussions on the regular (“Glad you bros are thinking about this stuff, but I have to argue too much of this shit just living my life.  It’s important, but it’s not fun, and it’s not all hypothetical. Not for me.”), but Will occasionally passed stuff on he thought Nursey would find interesting.

Now, he especially wanted Nursey’s thoughts, wondering if the article’s ideas were more digestible if you had Nursey’s level of understanding of language and queer theory.  And… Will was learning to want to include the people he was closest to when he was frustrated or struggling, instead of bottling up any emotion or experience he didn’t perfectly understand. Slowly.

 

Nursey didn’t text him back right away, and Will’s able to compartmentalize well enough to dig into his CS homework for a few hours.  By the time Nursey barged into their shared room and kissed him hello with still-cold lips, he’d mostly forget about any cracks that may or may not have shown up in the foundation of his worldview.  

“How was your day, babe?”

“Fine…” Will said vaguely.  He finished the line of code he was typing out, and added a closed curly bracket because goddamn he had learned that if nothing else in his time as a CS major.  He looked back up from his laptop, and kissed Nursey again now that he could give the activity his full attention. “It was good. Um. Got some work done, Shitty sent that article…”

“The one you sent me?  Mad cool article, brah.”

“Yeah it was… yeah.”

Nursey must’ve heard something in his voice because he came over and perched on the arm of Will’s desk chair.  Will automatically put an arm around him to steady him.

“Do you have thoughts on it?”

“Not ones I can articulate,” WIll said ruefully.  Nursey snorted and his hand found its way to the back of Will’s head, gently combing through his recently-cut hair.

“That’s cool.  It was definitely written to make the reader feel uncomfortable.”

“Yeah.   _Yeah_.  And just like--I’ve put in-- a fucking lot of work to accept that being gay isn’t worse or wrong or different than being straight-- that gay relationships are just as valid--”

Nursey made a noise of understanding in the back of his throat.  “And this author is making the argument that queer love is inherently different.  Well-- I think she’s actually trying to say more that all love is different than the straight conception of love, and that members of the queer community are just at the best vantage point to recognize that and work against it--”  he broke off. “You’re not looking for an in depth analysis of the argument, are you?”

Will leaned into Nursey’s touch.  “Nah, but I know you.”

“Asshole.  But you’re a valid asshole, okay?  There’s no one way to experience queerness, and we’ve all got shit to unlearn.  You’re not, like, failing at being gay.”

“You missed your calling as a motivational speaker.”

“Shut up, _asshole_.”

Will shot off a reply to Shitty the next day with a brief report on his existential crisis and a few other thoughts, and then he pretty much just moved on.  Maybe his and Nursey’s relationship wasn’t radically dismantling the heteropatriarchy, but he’s pretty damn happy with it, thanks. Like, probably to an embarrassing extent.  He’d catch himself getting lost in Nursey’s eyes and shit and thinking about how insanely lucky he is that someone like _Nursey_ loves and trusts someone like _him_ even after all the shit Will  pulled in their early friendship.  He’d be tempted to fine himself, some days.

 

They were coming back from a pretty brutal roadie-- double header games, one win, one loss, both too close to be at all satisfying, both fucking dirty-- Dartmouth rushed Chowder twice and it still made Will’s blood boil to remember.  All things considered, it was probably good that he and Nursey hadn’t been on the ice either time and even so Will barely stopped himself from vaulting on the ice from the bench and dropping his gloves, ejection be damned.

_But if I’d been out there maybe they wouldn’t have gotten near the net in the first place.  I should have been there, should have warned Chowder--_

Will scrubbed a hand over his face.  He was too run down to agonize like this over things that hadn’t happened when Chowder wasn’t even hurt.  Not that _knowing_ he shouldn’t be worrying ever stopped him, but, well.  At least he could be self-aware.

He took a breath and glanced to his right.  The frogs had claimed the bench seat at the back of the bus on grounds of seniority and no one ever saying no to Chowder, and Nursey immediately called dibs on middle seat.  He was sprawled out now across Will and Chowder, legs hooked over Will’s, slouched against Chowder on the other side, snoring softly. Something in Will’s chest unclenched. Nursey had been growing his hair out, and it was pulled back in a messy bun with half the curls already escaping, and he had on some ridiculous oversized hipster sweater that Will made fun of but had to admit was actually incredibly soft.  The overall effect was like Nursey was melting into Chowder.

Chowder looked up from his phone and caught Will’s eye.  He glanced down at Nursey between them and smiled his usual bright smile with an expression like _I know, right_?  Will smiled back automatically because that’s how he’s always been with Chowder.  

Then Chowder shifted, throwing an arm around Nursey’s shoulder so that his hand was lying across Nursey’s chest and--

Something in Will’s chest exploded.

He blushed because of course he did, and immediately turned to rest his head against the window, hoping the cold surface would drive the heat out of his face.

That was… an overreaction.  Will forced himself to breathe, to process.  His brain was fried, and he was overreacting to Chowder moving so he was comfortable on a long goddamn bus ride after a hard game.  Nursey was notoriously an octopus when napping, and Chowder loved to cuddle. That’s just how it is. There was no reason for his thoughts to be going where they were currently going.

Not that he thought it actually meant anything-- like, he trusted Nursey a hundred percent.  Will knew he’d never cheat on him, and Chowder would never make a move, would never cheat on Farmer-- Chowder and Farmer being a perfect couple was basically a fundamental pillar of the universe.

Will didn’t think there was anything at all going on between Nursey and Chowder other than platonic bro-hood.  But when he looked at the way Nursey curled against Chowder, how easily he fit, how sofly Chowder looked at him-- Will felt like maybe there should be.  Like maybe the two best people in his life were actually meant for each other and Will was just in the way.

And, if he was honest with himself, that scared him a hell of a lot more.

 

He cornered Bitty right outside of Annie’s.  Shitty would try to give him advice, Ransom didn’t need Dex’s whining on top of MCATs and med school apps, none of his CS friends had an ounce of emotional intelligence, and he loved his family, but calling his mom for something like this was asking for way too much vulnerability so soon after coming out.

So he cornered Bitty, who was also a white gay from a small town who’d spent most of his life in the closet and was now dating an almost unbelievably gorgeous human being.  Bitty would get it. Failing that, he would probably make him comfort cookies.

“Dex! How’re you doing?” Bitty took the lid off his drink and blew, making a slight indent in the foam on top.  “I know the UVM game was not pretty, but you boys oughta be proud of yourselves for scraping that win-- especially Nursey, with that shot in the third--”

“Hey Bitty. Jack’s captain mode really rubbed off on you, huh?” Will couldn’t resist a gentle chirp.  Bitty huffed in response.

“Alright, mister, go ahead and sass me.  See if you get any procrastination pie.”

Will laughed at the rare flash of self-awareness.  “I would never. Y’know Louis tried to convince me to make pot brownies in Betsy II last time you went down to Providence and I had to defend her honor.”

“I knew I was leavin’ her in good hands.”

He could see his breath when he exhaled; it was February, but it wasn’t bad for February.  Without really saying anything, he turned to start walking around the Pond, not ready to put himself back in the confines of the Haus.  Bitty followed with raised eyebrows but no comment.

“Listen Bitty, I, um.  Well.”

“Something you wanted to talk about, hon?”

“Yeah.  Or. I wanted to ask....and I might be overstepping, but.  Do you ever get, like, jealous with Jack? Or, I don’t know.  Like, worried that he’ll find something better than you? That he should find something better than you?  I mean, obviously you’re great,” Will rushed to add, “and you’re great with Jack, and Jack would jump into the Artic Ocean naked before breaking up with you, but--”

“But feelings aren’t always rational?”

“Yeah.”

Bitty hummed in understanding, sipping from his more-sugar-than-coffee concoction.  Will blew out another breath, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“I think one thing Jack and I learned pretty early on that made a lotta things easier later was communicating,” Bitty said slowly.  “Especially communicating especially when our feelings weren’t rational. And having those conversations as many times as we need to.  It’s not easy to date a professional hockey player while you’re trying to write your thesis--’specially last year with that shitstorm after the Cup.  We talk a lot about what’s important to us, and we know where we stand, and we know we’re both committed to puttin’ in the effort to make this thing work even when it’s hard.  It’s never gonna be easy. I’m not with him ‘cause it’s easy.”

“Your with him because it’s worth the work.” Will sighed.  Bitty’s answer was an oblique solution to his problem, though to be fair Will hadn’t given many details.  But the moral of the story was clearly 1) figure out his own shit and 2) communicate with Nursey. Then, to lighten the mood for both him and Bitty, Will added, “But mostly you’re with him for that ass, yeah?”

“William Poindexter. It would be a crime against gay men everywhere not to properly appreciate that ass while I’ve got it, and I, sir, am no homophobe.”

Will cracked up; Bitty kept his lips pursed prissily, but Will could see the twinkle in his eye.

“Thanks for that, Bits.”

“Hope you’re feeling better, hon.  Y’know you can always ask me if you need anything.”

Will nodded.  “Yeah. Yeah. I should-- library.  But I’ll see you later?”

“Sure thing.  Talk to your boy.”

Bitty waved and continued on toward the Haus without looking back.  Will pulled his beanie down again from where it had worked itself up over his ears.  He didn’t have an answer, still, but he had a plan. Figure out his own shit. Talk to Nursey.  He could do that.

 

Will and Chowder met for their weekly study date at Founders the next day, and it was pleasantly surprising to find that things felt-- totally normal.  Will wasn’t sure if that was an indication that he’d panicked and overreacted or that Chowder was just that easy of a person to be around. Knowing himself and Chowder, it was probably both.

“So R is useless but I don’t have time to write all the code in Python and this class is the worst thing ever,” Chowder complained in his usual bright tone.

“Told you not to take Data Analysis.”

“I needed a stats credit.”

“You’re dating a math major, C.”

“Cait told me I couldn’t just use her for her brain.”

Will snorted.  “But you don’t have a problem using me?”

“That’s not-- we’re studying together!”

Will laughed again, easy as it always was with Chowder, and opened up a new browser tab.  “I haven’t done analysis in Python, but this is a good blog for troubleshooting R.”

“You’re the best, Dex!”

“I’m going to tell Farmer you said that.”

Chowder huffed, and Will looked up in time to catch a slight flush in his cheeks.  Will stared a beat too long, and then turned back to his homework, which between coding and interpreting emotions, was the less thorny problem he had in front of him.

He couldn’t quite stop his mind from drifting back to that moment, though.  Chowder’s slight flush, the soft look in his eyes watching Nursey on the bus, the way he lit up whenever anyone mentioned Farmer’s name no matter what the context.  And Will--he’d been trying to figure out how to phrase his feelings of insecurity to Nursey, learn how to ask his partner for reassurance when he needs it, not seriously considering the possibility of changing up their relationship.  But maybe he should. Stop limiting himself-- the two of them-- with his heterosexist binary system of thinking. Or whatever.

Will was reminded, suddenly, of a different conversation with Chowder from probably freshman year.  They were sitting with their legs hanging off the edge of the reading room, a few beers in before that weekend’s kegster got going in earnest.  He and Nursey had just fought.

“You guys are always fighting.” Chowder had given him death-level puppy dog eyes, and Will still felt the hot guilt in his stomach at upsetting Chowder.

“We’re just too different, C.  Like, I try to be civil, but then he goes off using ‘summer’ as a fucking verb.”

“He says the same thing about your Samwell Republicans sticker,” Chowder said pointedly.  “Somehow I still manage to be friends with both of you.”

The guilt squirmed in Will’s stomach.  “It just doesn’t work between us.”

“Why not?”

 

Turned out Will had been wrong about a lot of things freshman year (and, okay, sophomore year-- he hadn’t meant to be such a dick about dibs, but he’d still managed to really hurt Nursey).  He’d been working on it and now, from a better, healthier place, Will couldn’t help but think _why not, indeed?_

 

“Hey, can we talk?  Nothing’s wrong,” Will rushed to add, seeing the spike of anxiety in Nursey’s eyes at the question.  His own nervous energy surely wasn’t doing anything to help the situation, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting.  The paper in his pocket was worn soft at the edges from all the times he’d run his fingers over it.

“We can talk,” Nursey said warily.  “What are we talking about?”

Will cleared his throat.  Warm afternoon sunshine shone through their bedroom window, casting a glow over Nursey where he was seated at the desk.  Dammit, he was beautiful. And he wanted to be with Will, wanted to be Will’s, and what if Will was about to put his foot in it and say the wrong thing like he always managed to do when he had to handle emotions?

“Babe,” Nursey stood and padded over in his socks to place a hand on Will’s shoulder.  “Seriously, are you good?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He’d prepared for this, Will reminded himself.  He’d thought it through. He’d written it down. “I have a-- a proposition?  I guess?”

Nursey raised his eyebrows.  “I’m already sleeping with you on the reg, dude.  Little late for a formal proposition.”

“Shut up,” Will huffed, but the chirp broke some of the tension he’d been holding in his chest all the same.  He grabbed Nursey’s hand. “Can we sit?”

They settled on the bottom bunk with their thighs touching, but Will leaned away enough to be able to look Nursey in the eye.  He pulled the now sadly crumpled letter out of his pocket and took a breath.

“I love you.  And I love us, together, and that’s not going to change.”

Will glanced up from the page to gauge Nursey’s reaction, and he looked strangely terrified.

“Bro, this isn’t-- are you trying to propose right now?”

Will choked on his own tongue.  “No! No way. Fuck. Um, not that I wouldn’t want-- but we’ve never talked about it-- we’re in college-- God--”

Nursey looked halfway to laughing, the other half still panicking. “Okay.  Chill. Just seemed real formal all of a sudden.”

“No I just-- didn’t want to mess this up.  Y’know me. And words. Things don’t always come out right.”

“Okay, yeah.  We’re chill.”

“Alright, well if we’re _chill_ , I’ll continue.”

“You have the floor.”

Will took another deep breath.  “So I love what we have. But I was also thinking. Um.  About that article I showed you? And the idea that it’s kind of arbitrary to assume we can only love one person at a time.  And I didn’t really think about how it applied to me, or, uh, us, but then I saw you and Chowder,” Will knew he was bright red, and he couldn’t read Nursey’s face but, well, no way out but through.  “On the bus. Just like, cuddling post roadie and I realized how important you were to each other and, uh, how much you meant to me. And I think maybe there’s something there that I hadn’t considered that’s, uh.  Worth considering.”

“What are you saying?” Nursey whispered.

“I’m saying… polyamory doesn’t make sense to me unless I think about it in terms of you and me and Chowder.  And then… it makes a lot of sense. So I wanted to talk to you about it and, uh, whether or not it might make sense to you too.”

Nursey nodded slowly, chewing on his bottom lip, and Will tracked the movement with his eyes.

“It’s not-- like, I’m not saying that you’re not enough for me,” Will rushed to add.  “You are so much more than I could ever imagine, in every way, and I love you so much. This-- whatever this is or turns out to be-- is adding.  Not replacing.”

Thank God he thought to write that down because Nursey had clearly needed to hear it.  He turned and let his head fall onto Will’s shoulder.

“Gimmee a minute.  This is a lot.”

“‘Course.”  Will brought his hand up and stroked along Nursey’s spine.  He still felt jittery, the way he did when he was halfway through an all-nighter and on his second pot of coffee, but he’d gotten it out.  

“Okay.  Like, I’m not going to say I’ve never had gay thoughts about Chowder.  And, uh, he’s easily in my top five favorite people. Like, the idea of dating Chowder in a vacuum is not unappealing.”

“Okay.”

“But relationships are _hard_ , dude.  It takes, like, work to communicate and cope with my anxiety without getting completely wrapped up in feelings and panic and worst case scenarios. And it’s hard to think about adding a whole other person to that equation.”

“I get that.  And look, this isn’t something that happens if we’re not both a hundred percent in.  I wanted to-- explain how I was feeling, not pressure you into anything.”

Nursey nodded as he spoke.  “And add that to Chowder being our closest friend and also already dating someone I really care about-- it’s not that I don’t want it.  It just seems so easy to fuck up.”

Will didn’t really have an answer to that because the same fears had been running through his mind for days, but he would also move heaven and earth to make Nursey happy, consequences be damned.  They sat in silence for several minutes, Will breathing in the smell of Nursey’s hair product and lotion. He must have showered recently.

“But it’s-- I don’t want to let the fear of what could go wrong control me?  I don’t want to give my anxiety that power.”

“Derek, you’re probably the bravest person I know.  You don’t have to-- prove anything--”

Nursey sat up and looked him square in the eye.

“It’s not about-- if I never did anything that made me anxious, I wouldn’t do _shit_.  I’d never share a poem in class or wear lipstick in public or have asked you out-- and the anxiety would still be there.  So. So let’s keep having this conversation, yeah?”

“Did you mean that metaphorically or like, keep talking right now?”

“Whichever.  Both, I guess,” he waved a hand.

“Okay.  ‘Cause I wanted to talk to you first, and like, make sure we’re on the same page.  But I don’t want to leave Cait out of all this either. And Chowder, obviously, but.  Yeah. Anyway. Communication,” Will trailed off and rolled his eyes at Nursey’s smirk.  “I didn’t write this part down, asshole.”

“Right.  And, uh, not to like, pigeonhole you or tell you how you identify, but you’re not into girls?”

“Yeah, not in the abstract.”  Will rubbed his thumb against Nursey’s.  “But it’s also not some hypothetical chick off the street, it’s Farmer, you know?  Like...sexuality and gender are social constructs.”

“Don’t quote Shitty at me.”

Will shoved his shoulder.

“Fuck off.  You know what I mean.”

“I am aware that it is possible for the labels that pervade Western Christian cultures to on occasion be confining and too reductive to accurately communicate and symbolize actual lived experience.”

“That is exactly what I said just somehow even more pretentious.”

“I’m agreeing with you!”

“You’re a douche.”

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ douche.”

Will gave into the grin that was determined to take over his face.

“Look, I don’t really want to have sex with Farmer, but I love her as a friend, and it makes me happy to see how stupid happy she makes C, y’know?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Plus, like.  I like when we hang out all four of us, or double date, or whatever and like-- what exactly is the difference between that and dating, if we take sex out of the equation?”

“Honestly… fair.”

“Great, well.  Good talk, bro.”

Will’s poker face broke in two seconds flat at the look of outrage Nursey gave him.

“What did you just say to me?  Excuse me? _That’s_ your response to half an hour of heart to heart, soul baring conversation?”

Will kissed him, still laughing.  “I love you.”

“That’s more like it,” Nursey said, kissing him back.

 

* * *

 

The thing was, saying he wasn’t going to let his anxiety rule his life didn’t actually make him stop feeling anxious.  Derek spent a week oscillating between humming anticipation and churning terror at the thought of asking Chowder and Farmer to kiss-- date-- whatever-- him and Dex.

And then it was midterms, which didn’t really help his baseline mental state, but at least provided distraction.  His poetry workshop partner commented that they liked the way he represented his lover as different people in his most recent poem, and Derek choked on his own tongue because his subconscious had no business doing him dirty like that, but otherwise the status quo remained pretty stable.  He and Dex hadn’t talked about it much more, either, beyond a quick “we’re both still thinking about this but don’t know what to think yet” check in. To be fair, they’d spent most of their time together lately studying in companionable silence or physically in practice because they were looking like they had a solid chance at the ECAC championships and Hall and Murray never quite made good on the whole “student athletes are students first” thing that was the official stance of Samwell Athletics.  

It had been a long two weeks, was what Derek was saying.

 

“Five fifty-nine p.m., Friday, March seventeenth, the year of our lord two thousand and seventeen,” Farmer said, slamming her hands on the table, narrowly missing Dex’s coffee on one side and Derek’s eggs on the other, making Derek jump.  Four hours of sleep had _not_ left him sufficiently alert enough to anticipate such an emphatic invasion of team breakfast.

“Hey, Cait,” Chowder said cheerfully.

“Hi babe.”  She kissed his cheek.  “Now that I have your attention--”

“You’re going to yell more dates at us?”

“No.  Hush. This Friday is the last day any of us have a midterm assignment due,” Farmer said, steely-eyed in a way Derek recognized from watching her games.  “And so we, at precisely oh-eighteen hundred hours are going to have a motherfucking party.”

“I would rather set the Haus on fire than have an actual kegster this week,” Dex said.  Whiskey beside him held his hand out for a fist bump without speaking.

“No kegsters.  Frogs only. Us four and a bottle of Jack.”

“How much sleep did you get last night, babe?” Chowder asked in his dryly sarcastic tone that really only came through if you knew him well enough and bothered to take off the casually-racist-infantilization goggles.  It was Derek’s favorite of Chowder’s many tones, especially when it was leveled at someone who wasn’t him.

“Irrelevant,” Farmer continued, pointing aggressively at her boyfriend, who grinned like she had given him the moon.  “Drinking is optional, attendance is mandatory. I will host so we all have an excuse to get out of the Haus and avoid the rest of these animals.”

Tango opened his mouth like he was going to object to this characterization of SMH, but Louis chose that moment to literally howl, so Tango just closed his mouth and sighed defeatedly.

“You’ve got a deal.” Dex shook Farmer’s hand.  She gave each of them a one armed hug before striding back over to where two of the vollyball frosh were sitting.  Derek watched her go without really thinking about it.

“That’s one way to start a morning,” Dex said, using his spoon to flick a bit of oatmeal at Louis.

“Yeah,” Chowder said happily. “Now we just have to make it til Friday!”

“Yeah,” sighed Nursey until Louis’s retaliatory glob of scrambled eggs hit him in the ear.

“Y’all, we cannot get thrown out of the dining hall again.”

“He started it!”

“Louis, I am not your mama but so help me god--”

“How come Bitty never yells at you?” Chowder asked Dex in an undertone.

“Secret privilege of youngest siblings everywhere.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m the only one who knows how to fix the oven.”

“There we go.”

 

Derek’s last major paper was due a full twenty-four hours before Dex and Chowder’s midterm, so he spent the subsequent evening curled under a blanket on Chowder’s bed while they two studied, too drained to commit to any kind of real activity.  He had _In the Time of Butterflies_ open in one hand, half-skimming the familiar words.  The strength and sheer human emotion of the book offered the same comforting presence as the fuzzy Sharks blanket pulled over his head.

And also-- Derek wasn’t a woman.  He was pretty clear on that. But women like this-- who loved, who resisted, who hid--shit, women like Alvarez who could write like that-- it opened something inside him, something heavy and warm.   _I contain multitudes_ , he thought, rolling his eyes at himself because he could never really shut his brain off, no matter how tired he was.

He must have snorted or something, too, because Dex looked up, creating a lull in the storm of furious typing.  Derek looked back from his blanket cocoon, relishing the warm feeling.

“I love you,” Dex said seriously, and it made Derek’s stomach flip the way it always did until he continued, “But right now, I hate you.”

“It is patently not my fault that you make bad life choices, including but not limited to majoring in compsci and taking three four-hundred level courses the same semester.”

“Not going to stop me.”  Dex glared, presumably attempting to will his code into submission.

“Yeah, since when has Dex’s temper been rational?” Chowder muttered, still typing, though admittedly with less force than Dex had been, while Dex moved his glower from the laptop screen to Chowder.

“Call it passion, it sounds better that way,” Derek offered.  “Blinded by throes of passion, the young man, fiery of heart and hair brought forth warmth in the realm of cold hard calculations--”

“What the _fuck_ , Nursey,” Chowder burst out laughing, all the tension draining out of his shoulders at once.  Derek saw Dex start to grin, too, despite himself, at the bright sound, and that-- the two of them-- happy and relaxed at his words-- _he did that_ \--

Derek buried his face in Sharky for a minute, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions and too worn down to put up a mask of contrived chill.

“What, too bashful to face your adoring fans?” Dex’s voice came, dry but fond.

“Ooh, do poets have groupies?  Can we be your groupies, Nursey?”

“Is this what Shakespeare felt like?” Derek returned, voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

“I doubt Shakespeare’s fans were primarily Irish and Chinese queer dudes.”

“Okay, yeah, racism, but Shakespeare was hella queer and anyone who tries to tell you different is lying.”

“Shall you compare me to a summer’s day, Nursey?” Chowder waggled his eyebrows.  Derek gulped.

“Thou art more lovely and more temperate.”  Dex’s voice was rough.

Derek cleared his throat, eyes drawn inextricably to two different sets of lips.  “Uh. Great poetry, boys, but don’t you have science-y junk to study?”

“Way to kill the moment,” Chowder pouted, which did not help distract Derek from his lips.  

“You call that a moment?”  Dex’s voice was a shade too breathless to be properly mocking, but Derek couldn’t tell if Chowder noticed.

“Listen.  No. I’m going to be a good influence for once in my life,” Derek said sternly.  “No moments are allowed to happen until midterms are over for everyone.”

“So what happens tomorrow?” Chowder asked-- was he smirking?

“No spoilers,” Derek blurted, and fled the room, Sharky still in hand.

They make it to tomorrow, but Derek’s not really sure he would describe the way it ends up going down as a _moment_.  It’s more--

He walked into Cait’s room, Dex’s arm around his waist.  Cait stood fluidly, all in one motion from where she’d been cross-legged on the floor, ruffled Chowder’s hair on her way past.  Chowder grinned like the sun, Cait’s fingers brushed Derek’s as she handed him a can beaded with condensation and Derek just fucking blurted it out.

“So I was thinking-- Dex and I were-- what if we all dated?”

He could feel Dex tense, drop his head to Derek’s shoulder to hide whatever his face is doing.  Chowder and Farmer are both frozen, Chowder with his jaw comically dropped, and then all at once Farmer bursts out laughing.

“Um.”

“Not laughing at you!” Cait got out.  Chowder, also chuckling, nodded vigorously.  “Oh my god. We’ve wanted to ask you guys out for like.   _Months_.”

“You--” Dex gaped.

“Um.”

“We had the polyamory panic before the semester started, and we spent all this time worrying about making things weird-- and you just walk in the door and ask!”

“Sorry?” Derek offered, even though he really wasn’t.  Not if this was going where he thought it was.

Chowder stood and crossed the room in two strides, looking as determined as Derek had ever seen him in the net.  He stopped directly in front of Derek. “Can I kiss you?”

“I-- yes.”  Derek glanced over at Dex, but he was nodding emphatically.

Chowder took Derek’s face in his hands and brought their lips together in a soft but utterly devastating motion.  He pulled back enough for Derek to see his face-- to see the soft hints of a grin ready to break through, and Derek couldn’t stop himself from running a hand through the ridiculous spikes of his hair, pulling him back in for another kiss.  Derek wasn’t sure how much time passed, but when Farmer started to wolf-whistle he took it as a sign to break apart. Dex’s eyes were blown wide, and Derek grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“Okay?”

“Are you kidding?” Dex huffed.  Farmer shot him an exaggerated wink from her place leaning into Chowder’s side.  “We should, uh. Like before we just jump in-- discuss boundaries and shit? And like, what we want?”

“Absolutely,” Derek backed him up, Farmer nodding along.

“Of course!”

“Cool.  Good.” Dex looked around.  “Uh, not really sure where to start, though.”

“We’ll get to that,” Derek ruffled Dex’s hair, earning him a glower. “First I want us to all acknowledge how you, William ‘Tight Ass’ Poindexter proactively asked to DTR and communicate boundaries with actual real words.”

“They grow up so fast,” Farmer snickered.  Predictably, Dex went red.

“I like things to be organized!”

“How long did it take you to tell Nursey you liked him, again?” Chowder asked, devastating faux-innocent mask in place.

“Oh, like months, right babe?  All that time pining away when you could have just asked me with your big boy words--”

“Fuck you, fine, I’ll start.  What I want from this relationship is not to get fucking dragged--”

“We’re celebrating your growth, babe.”

“I want to know what we’re getting into and if I have to _communicate_ to make that happen so fucking be it!”

Derek laughed because he could see the spark in Dex’s eyes underneath the angry eyebrows.

“You know what?  Valid,” Farmer piped up.

“Thank you.” Dex crossed his arms.  “So?”

“Maybe we could take some time to think about it?” Chowder said.  “Like. I know that I want this, but it’s been, like, hella hypothetical this whole time so I haven’t really thought about what it would look like, for me?”

“I know I’m the dumbass who asked y’all out with no warning, but agreed,” Nursey said.

“So maybe-- like we could set up a lunch date for this weekend or something?  And all come with like, yeses and nos and whatever?”

“A date and negotiate!” Derek said, pleased.  Farmer laughed.

“Sounds good,” Dex said.  “Chowder’s idea, not whatever clever thing Nursey thought he said.”

“Now who’s getting dragged?” Nursey pouted.

* * *

  


They met back in Cait’s room the next day because the Haus walls leaked secrets like Cait’s tias after Christmas Eve toasts.  Cait liked the feeling of being on her own turf, but she also felt like she was climbing up a rollercoaster and about to hit an incredibly steep drop.

Nursey and Dex walked in the door holding hands.

Cait loved rollercoasters.

“Er.  We wrote them down,” Nursey said, brandishing one of his omnipresent notebooks from inside his coat pocket.  

“Cool.” Why did she sound breathless? “Chris just texted he’s on his way if you want to sit down?”

Dex sat directly next to her on the edge of the bed, bumping shoulders like they’ve done

a million times before.  Nursey opted to splay out on the floor.  The silence was charged, but not anxious-- Cait had a vague sense she was being a bad hostess, but they all came here for a purpose, and all they’re waiting on is Chris, and she can’t control how quickly he walks across Lake Quad, so.

“You’re all here?  Sorry I’m late!” Chris burst in with cheeks rosy from the crisp spring air.

“It’s chill.”

“Are we just, um, jumping in?  Nursey and I made lists.” Dex pulled his out.

“Yeah, I mean, can I?” Chris reached out and Dex handed him the folded piece of paper.  Chris ran his eyes down the list quickly; Cait didn’t miss the appearance of the chin dimple that meant he was definitely scheming something.

“So kissing is good, then?” Chris confirmed.  Dex got halfway through a nod before he had a lapful of goalie.  Cait laughed at the immediate way Dex responded, and, glancing down, caught Nursey’s eye.

“You’re not feeling left out, I hope?”

“It’s a nice sight to watch, but I don’t see why we can’t give ‘em a little show of our own,” Cait said.  Nursey scrambled up from the floor to sit on her other side, and she pulled him in with an arm around his waist.  It was-- she hadn’t intended to start full on making out this early, but she was definitely disappointed when he pulled back.  She sighed and leaned against Dex, who had apparently broken apart from Chris when they realized what was going on.

“Good!”  Chris said.  “Glad we got that straightened out.”

“I don’t know, that was one of the less-straight experiences of my life,” Dex said wryly.  He shifted a little, hands on Chris’s hips, and Cait didn’t miss the blush rising on both their faces.  “Um.”

“Probably this is not the ideal seating arrangement for a formal discussion of relationship boundaries?” Chris elaborated.  Nursey snickered until Dex reached behind Cait to flick his ear.

“I was here first, you all move.”

Obligingly the boys got up, Nursey returning to the floor, Dex claiming the chair, and Chris leaning against the footboard.  Everyone glanced around.

“I can start with the elephant in the room, I guess?” Dex cleared his throat.  “Er, Farmer, you’re one of my favorite people, but--I’m gay.”

“Cool, yeah.” She nodded.  “So...you’d want to date Chris, but not me?”

Dex made a face.  “I want to kiss Chris, but not you.  That’s about as far as I’ve gotten. Like.  I wouldn’t ask you out, probably, in a different context, but it also seems weird to split hairs of we’re not dating, but we’re both dating each other’s boyfriends.”

“But that’s what you want, Nursey?  To date both of us?” Chris asked.

“Ch’yeah if that’s what you want.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely.”

“Sorry for making things complicated,” Dex muttered.

“Well that’s bullshit,” Cait told him.

“This doesn’t work if we’re not hundo-pee on the same page,” Nursey kicked Dex’s angle.  “We’re figuring out where we stand, not trying to make anyone into something they’re not.”

Dex shook his head.  “You’re right. Cait.”  He looked up at her from across the room, and Cait couldn’t really imagine kissing him either, but she was still momentarily struck by how much she cared for him as a person.  He just looked so earnest with his eyebrows drawn together like that. Like a puppy who still hadn’t grown into his ears.

“We can be platonic, Will.  That’s not-- less meaningful than being sexual or romantic.”  As she spoke, Cait scooted down to the end of the bed closest to where Dex was sitting so she could squeeze his shoulder.  “And we can call it whatever the hell you want. Friends, partners, queer platonic--”

“Boyfriend in-law!” Nursey offered delightedly.

Dex leaned back into her touch.  “Sounds good.”

“And we can play it by ear,” Chris pointed out.  “This isn’t-- this shouldn’t be a once and done kind of talk, you know?”

“Great, yeah.” Dex shoved his paper back in his pocket.  “Then the only other thing from me is, like. Something you all already know, but.  I’m not good with words. I like to do things for people or with people, even if it’s just cuddling or some shit.”  He paused. “Also-- in situations like this? Or, um, if we’re arguing-- it really helps if I can just have a minute to sort shit in my head out.  And actually think of the words that I mean to say because my reflex is still to just yell which makes everyone feel shitty.”

Cait nodded and took a mental snapshot of the looks on Chris and Nursey’s faces.  She hadn’t been close with Dex until later, but she was sure they were each picturing the boy Dex had been freshman year articulating something like that.  Nursey looked proud to bursting.

“I can go through my stuff next?” Cait offered after a soft minute.  “Um, since some of it already came up anyway.”

She got nods all around.

“Great, so.  In terms of labels and who’s dating who--”

“Whom,” Nursey muttered.  She aimed a kick in his direction even though he was way too far away for it to connect.

“It’s important to me that we all still feel like a group?  Like, even if we don’t all have the exact same kind of relationship I want to… have affirmation, I guess, that we’re all still equally important in each other’s lives.  And that it’s not me-and-Chris plus Dex-and-Nursey. Or the boys plus me. That we’re more than the sum of our parts.”

“Well said.” Nursey shot her an appreciative glance, a glimpse under the chill facade.  

“And yeah.  That’s my big thing going into this.” She shrugged.  “Anything else you all probably know.”

“Same here, pretty much,” Chris jumped in.  “I love all you guys, but having you in my life as best friends who don’t kiss is better than kissing and having it be weird.  So yeah. Just, like, staying on the same page, and communicating before it gets to the point of shouting matches.”

Cait snorted quietly-- his glance towards Nursey and Dex was not at all subtle.

“Also,” he continued, looking at the ceiling now.  “Not infantalizing me. Um, not that any of you do that, but sometimes it’s different when you’re actually in a relationship and it’s like, no, actually, I’m a mature consenting adult in this scenario too.”  He huffed, and Nursey reached out to put a hand on his knee.

“Of course,” Dex said.

“Thanks for voicing that, babe.”

“Yeah.”  Chris looked around.  “Nursey, you wanna go?”

“Right.” Nursey pulled his knees to his chest.  “So basically-- sometimes I have a hard time just like, being a person. I get crazy anxious or feel like I need to crawl out of my own body and I wear dresses and I see a therapist back home.  And I have a really fucking hard time admitting it.”

Cait’s heart broke a little, in time with his voice.

“So like, being in a relationship-- being a person for someone else-- is hard.  And sometimes I do just need some time to myself or some time with no one placing expectations on me.  I’m trying to get better at like, asking for help. But then I get anxious about being a burden so like…” He waved a hand noncommittally before running it through his hair.  “I guess it comes back to what C said with like, communication. On both sides.”

“Of course you’re not a burden, Nursey,” Chris said as gently as she’d ever heard him.

"Are you going to share what you told me?" Dex prompted.  

"Right." Cait could swear Nursey was blushing.  "Um.  Just like, in terms of the gender thing-- I'm fine with male pronouns and shit, but um.  I don't like in bed--talking about how big or masculine I am.  It's usually got racist undertones and it always messes with my head."

"Talking in general is okay though?" Cait asked.

Nursey and Dex nodded in unison.  Chris laughed, a little wickedly.

“Are we, uh, all going around again to say what we like in bed?" Dex asked, definitely blushed.

"I mean, at some point we have to just say ‘fuck it’ and just see where it goes, right?” Chris said.

“This.  This is that point.”

“Hey, C,” Dex said casually.  “Wanna fuck me and see where it goes?”

Chris visibly choked on his own tongue, and Cait would have laughed if the sharpening of his gaze hadn’t sent sparks off under her skin.

“That’s not what I said!”

“Are you objecting?”

“No,” Chris said quickly.  “As long as we’re all comfortable?”

Nursey grinned.  “I have literally never been better.”


	2. Epilogue

The logistics of four people having sex-- well at this point it was really just making out-- in a twin bed were difficult, to say the least.  Derek could appreciate the challenge, but getting elbowed for the sixth time in as many minutes was starting to be a bit of a mood killer.

“I think-- we might need to reorganize,” Dex panted, head thrown back with Chowder’s face buried under the collar of his shirt. 

“Literally why have none of us invested in a queen bed yet.”

“Okay, wait, hang on.  We can do this,” Farmer insisted, propping herself up on her elbows.  Derek glance down at her with a quirked eyebrow. She smirked, and he shivered.  “Look, okay, here.” She grabbed Dex’s hand and pulled him down next to her so that they were both half-slouched on top of the pillows.  They had matching flushed cheeks and mussed hair, and Derek was suddenly sure he was going to be a hundred percent on board with whatever Farmer was planning.  

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” she continued with what was, quite frankly, a smile of pure evil.  “You two--” she nodded at Derek and Chowder “--eat me and Dex out, and whichever of us comes first gets fucked while the other two watch.”

Someone whimpered.  Derek thought it might have been him.  “God, Cait, do you always talk like this?”

“She has a real mouth on her,” Chowder said breathlessly.

“Good,” Derek pulled up his sexy-confident grin.  “So do I.”

Farmer visibly shivered.  “So we’re all good with this plan, then?”

“There’s never any pressure.  Anyone can say no, anytime.”

“I’m very good,” Derek said with raw honesty.  Dex seemed already beyond words, but he was nodding vigorously.

“Great.  Okay.”

“Nervous you’ll lose, Chow?” Derek stayed in his kneeling position below Farmer, but reached forward to run a hand up the inside of her leg.  Chowder met his eyes, competitive glint making Derek’s self-assured demeanor stutter.

“This is literally a no-lose situation,” he said, and then he was pushing Dex’s shirt up with one hand and palming his ass with the other, and Dex’s abs clenched as Chowder licked over them.

“Hey there, pretty boy.” Farmer lightly ran her foot over his dick.  “Don’t you have something to be doing?”

“Right.”

Derek took off his shirt, than tugged at hers until she sat up and pulled it over her head-- he liked skin to skin contact, sue him.  Then he leaned forward, pushing her back into the pillows with a kiss. He had one leg between hers, and he could feel her pushing against it already, a needy rhythm.  He braced with one hand over her head to keep his full weight off her, the other running up and down her side and occasionally teasing below her breast and over the nipple.  Derek could have honestly stayed there for quite a while, letting Cait take and take from him, her tongue firm and demanding in his mouth, but she had other ideas. A leg hooked around his waist pulled him against her, his erection rubbing against her hip, and he groaned.

“Cait, if we keep going like this, I’m going to come while I’m eating you out,” he said into her ear, sucking on the lobe before moving down to her collarbone.  Her hips bucked up.

“That would  _ so _ not be a problem, but I really want to win-- ah-- this bet,” she whined.

“Alright then, let me see what I can do.”

“He can do a lot,” Dex gasped from beside her.

“I’m looking forward to it.”  

Chowder didn’t comment from where his face was buried between Dex’s thighs.  Derek reached over and tweaked Dex’s nipple-- the left one, the sensitive one.  Dex thrust up.

“Ow!” Chowder sat up, rubbing his nose.

“Oh my god.”

“Shit, are you okay?” Dex asked, blushing from embarrassment on top of the arousal.

“Yeah,” Chowder huffed.  “But I’m calling interference.”

Nursey gulped, a little guilty.  “I’ll make it up to you. Um.” Inspiration struck him.  “Pro tip-- Dex  _ really _ likes being teased,” he said, sultry.  “Touch him all over-- but not his dick, not his ass.  Lick every freckle ‘til he’s begging for it, and then give it to him.”

“I don’t beg,” Dex whined, pleading.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Farmer said lightly.  Chowder grinned, game face in place.

“I don’t need to tell you how Cait likes it-- she’ll do that herself.”

“Explicit communication is the secret to great sex,” Cait said, a hand palming her own breast over her bra.

Derek snorted.  “‘Explicit’ communication.”

“You just going to sit there and chirp me?”

“I was under the impression you were going to tell me what I should be doing.” Derek raised an eyebrow.  Cait licked her lips.

“Start over my underwear,” she directed.  “Use lips and tongue-- I like-- fuck-- a lot of pressure.”

Derek did as he was told, breath ghosting over her stomach as he skimmed his lips down to her waistband.  He pulled off the gym shorts she was wearing, but left her utilitarian black panties on. He took a minute to suck a mark right at the crease of her thigh, waiting for her breath to go uneven before nosing at her clit through the thin cotton.  He licked up the damp fabric, long and hard, then did it again because listening to the quick dissolution of her control was so delicious.

“Fuck, Caity, you sound so good,” Chris panted from next to them, massaging his jaw.  “You make her sound so good, Derek, so good. Just like that.”

Derek shivered, and did as encouraged, nuzzling into her.  Cait had one hand underneath her bra, and the other danced up Derek’s bicep to the back of his neck.  He pulled back.

“Um, I don’t really love hands in my hair?” He hated how it came out a question, but Cait immediately pulled back.  “But uh. Dex does.”

Farmer immediately took the hint, reaching to stroke Dex’s head beside her.  “This okay?”

“Fuck-- yes, yeah.”

She tugged.  “How about this?”

Dex just whined, his dick twitching.  Derek felt his own throb at the sight, and grabbed himself just to stop from coming before returning to his ministrations (which, while not any less arousing, were at least somewhat distracting).

He got his tongue under the seam of Cait’s underwear, licking up the side of her lips.

“Jesus, take them off, take them off.”  She lifted her hips and he pulled down her panties in one swift motion, not bothering to untangle them from her legs before diving back between them.  Beside them, Dex was jerking hard enough to shake the entire bed, dick leaking and entirely untouched. Derek knew this was technically supposed to be a race, but he couldn’t bring himself to rush, instead savoring every little twitch and moan Cait offered as he alternated long, firm strokes of his tongue between her lips with firm mouthing at her clit, never doing either for long enough for her to come.

Giving oral was, apparently, the one thing he liked enough to override his competitive spirit.  He filed that tidbit away for future examination, and pushed his tongue up into Cait. She screamed.

“Fuck you, fuck you, God, Derek.”  She ground up into his face, and he obligingly swirled his tongue hard around her clit just once before backing off, relishing the wet warmth of her.  Meanwhile Dex gave a strangled groan as Chowder sped up whatever he was doing at the sound of Cait’s scream. Cait reached over again and gave a sharp tug at Dex’s hair, and he shuddered apart, cum shooting over his chest and abs.  Derek gave in to the temptation to lick it off him, making Dex whine from the sensitivity, and Cait push at his shoulder.

“How you doing?” he asked her.

“I may never forgive you,” she said seriously.  “And we’re going to watch Chris fuck Dex because I’m not about to back down from a bet, but then I am going to sit on your dick and ride you until either you or the bed breaks.”

“Cool, sounds good.” Derek had never been less chill in his life.

Farmer stroked a hand through Dex’s hair.  “What about you, Dex? What do you want?”

“God, anything,” he gasped.  Chowder smirked.

“Yeah?” Farmer continued archly.  “You’re ready to go?”

“You need more than a rimjob to loosen up, babe.”

“Tell us what you need,” Farmer directed, tugging a little.  “You want Chris to use his hands to open you up?”

“Yeah.”

“You want Derek to help?  Or do you want me to take him over to the chair and make him watch?”

Derek groaned at that, pressed the heel of his hand to his crotch.  Chowder gave him a commiserating glance, swishing a gulp from his water bottle around in his mouth.

` “Make him watch.” Dex made eye contact with Derek, gaze heated even through the post-orgasm haze. He’d thought they were all ganging up on Dex to wring him dry, but now it was Derek who felt like he was falling apart-- in the best way. “Hold him, he likes that.  Whisper in his ear, but don’t let him come until Chris does.”

“Done,” Farmer grinned, then extended her hand to Derek.  He took it, bending to kiss Dex long and hard and mutter a “fuck you, dude” before following Cait over to the chair across from the bed.  

“Nope, that’s C’s job,” Dex tossed back.  Chowder kissed the words out of his mouth, then blew a kiss to Cait and Derek on the armchair.

“Make it fast, babe,” Cait said, breathless, as she draped herself over Derek, half on his lap and half to the side.  Her arms came around his neck, and her lips found his pulse point. She moved to the sensitive spot right below his ear, and he whimpered in time with Dex as Chris pushed a finger into him across the room.

“Aw, fuck, Will,” Chris said.  “You feel so good, so ready for me, god.”  He flicked his wrist as he said it and Dex groaned, his dick already to re-harden against his thigh.

“Another, I can take another,” Dex begged as Cait sucked a line down Derek’s throat and he was lost in the sensation and Dex coming undone always made him lose it too.  Suddenly Cait’s teeth pulled sharply on his earlobe, sharp and bright.

“Are you watching?” she whispered.  Derek refocused on the sight across from him and literally felt anything he might have had in the way of rational thought fuzz out.  Chris’s hand was at the base of his dick-- such a pretty dick, Derek couldn’t wait to get his mouth on it-- guiding it into Dex, who had turned over to brace on his elbows.  Chris sheathed himself and bent over Will to kiss between his shoulder blades.

“God, Will, babe, you feel so good.” 

Dex wriggled his hips, “C’mon, C, I thought you said you were gonna fuck me.”

“Needy much?” Derek called, the chirp very much lessened by the way his voice cracked.

“Fuckin’ asked for it,” Chris said, pulling out, and oh shit that was--

“Goalie face,” Cait said smugly.  Derek just nodded in agreement, words failing.

All at once Chris slammed back into Will with-- judging by Will’s reaction-- devastating aim.  After the first thrust, Cait shifted fully on to Derek’s lap and wrapped her legs around his waist, facing away from the bed to kiss him again.

Derek whimpered.

“Do they look good?” Cait whispered. “You know how good Will feels, but you’ve never had Chris push into you at just the right angle, light you up from inside out… you just have to imagine what it’s like.”

He didn’t even know what sound came out of his mouth at that.  His hands dropped to her hips, holding her still because she was naked and wet in his lap, with him just in briefs, and if his dick got any friction at all, he was going to come and quite possibly die.  Cait sucked on his earlobe, swirling it around with her tongue.

“I can’t see them, baby.  You have to tell me what they look like.  Tell them how good they look, go on. They wanna hear it, don’t you boys?”

“Yeah-- Derek--” Chris gasped, even as his hips kept a relentless rocking rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck they’re so good, they look so good.  Chris is beautiful giving it to Will just how he likes it and Will arching his back into it, god Poindexter, you look like a fucking pornstar,” Derek babbled, Cait’s whispered command apparently the only thing he needed to let all the words come spilling out of his head.  “They’re getting sloppy now, getting close, c’mon C, you’re close, so close.” Chris nodded wildly, hair flopping into his eyes. Derek wanted to push it back, lick the drop of sweat creeping down to his jaw, he wanted--

Chris reached down a hand to jack Dex off, the first time a hand had touched Dex all night holy shit, and in two strokes Dex was coming again, Chris following right after.  He half collapsed against Dex, placing breathless open-mouth kisses down his spine.

“Fuck, Will, that was-- holy shit,” he mumbled.  Cait whined at the sound of Chris’s completely wrecked tone and started wiggling her hips in Derek’s lap, seemingly without thinking.

“Our turn, c’mon,” she cut herself off by kissing Derek and began grinding in earnest.  “Come on, baby, how do you want it, how do you want me?”

“Like this, fuck,” he said, struck by a particularly clever use of her tongue and inspiration in the same moment, “But on the bed, between our boys.”

“Christ, Derek, are you trying to murder me?” Dex said weakly.

Farmer pulled back just enough for him to read the  _ what are you waiting for _ clearly in her eyes.  He gripped under her ass, and when she tightened her legs around him, he stood and walked them both over to the bed, depositing her to the side of Chris that wasn’t soaked with cum.

Chris already had the condom off and in the trash and was free to turn to Cait eagerly with a kiss and careful strokes of his fingers between her legs.  Dex shifted up so that Derek could sit between his legs and lean back against his chest, producing a condom from Derek didn’t even know where, and rolling it down his aching dick while sucking a on his neck from behind.

“Farms, I hope you’re close, ‘cause he’s not gonna last long.” Derek could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Fuck you Poindexter, you’ve already blown your load twice.”

“And I had a damn good time doing it.”

“Enough banter,” Cait cut in.  “Derek, fuck me  _ now _ .”

“Well, if you insist,” he said, bravado evaporating immediately as she lowered herself down finally--  _ finally _ \-- onto his dick.  Dex’s chest was firm against his back and Cait’s thighs bracketed his hips, Chowder pulled him in for a kiss, and Derek’s life and belief systems were a whole mess of different religions and skepticism and moral quandaries, but he was suddenly  _ very _ sure he believed in a heaven.

Cait got a good rhythm going, alternating firm and steady bounces with devastating rolls of her hips, stuttering occasionally when he thumbed one of her nipples or Chris mouthed at her collarbone.  She was quiet for the first time all night, fucking herself down on his dick, so wet he almost thought she had come already.

“I’m close,” she whined, as though reading his thoughts.  “I’m so close baby, Derek, fuck.”

“C’mon, Caity,” Chris said, low.

“No, I’m not-- Derek first.”

“That can be arranged,” Dex said, moving his hands from where they’d been skimming up Derek’s sides to tweak a nipple.  Derek’s hips bucked up, and Cait began riding him in earnest, hard and fast. Chris brushed his nose up the shell of Derek’s ear, sucking the lobe and letting his speech exhale hot air over it.

“C’mon, Derek.  You’re doing so good, baby, so beautiful, you gonna come for us?  You gotta come so Cait can, look how close she is, she so close, you got her so close.”

Derek would have been impressed by C’s hidden talent for dirty talk if he had any capacity at all for thought in that moment.

“C’mon, Derek, please, baby, come on, come for me,” Cait spoke in time with her thrusts hair falling in her face and getting in both their mouths as she pulled him into a deceptively soft kiss.  It was that hint of gentleness that put him over the edge, and his head fell against her breasts as he came, thrusting up erratically. Before the aftershocks were even over, Chris had a hand down to thumb Cait’s clit, and as soon as he was capable of movement, Derek cupped one of her breasts and kissed the other, sucking the nipple hard.  She shuddered hard in his lap, her orgasm whiting Derek’s vision out from the overstimulation, his dick twitching inside her.

It could have been moments or years later, but she pulled off him enough for him to get the condom off, and flopped down across him and Chris immediately after.

“I vote no one moves for several days, at least,” she said into Derek’s stomach where her head had fallen.

“I could live with that,” Dex agreed.  Derek nodded, and let himself sink into the warmth of the three people he loved most like a sunset, something beautiful he could look forward to again and again and again.


End file.
